Chapter Five-Truth or Consequences

Amidala later looked back on the first months of her liaison with Obi-Wan as the happiest time of her life. Before all the complications set in. Before it all began to go wrong. And go wrong it did. There were some troubling things right from the beginning, of course: like Obi-Wan's lecture, early on, on how seriously she should take their relationship.

"Jedi can't marry, so this isn't permanent, Amidala. I want you to understand that from the start."

Amidala had been irritated by this blunt warning, so she responded, arching her brows, and using her most regal manner: "Are you serious, Obi-Wan? Me, marry a commoner?" The Queen of Naboo put plenty of emphasis on that last word. She saw a flash of temper in his eyes, and was momentarily delighted. Nobody insulted a Naberrie in that fashion! Well, she could amend that statement: the people who had insulted the Queen of Naboo had ended up in separate pieces, scattered to the wind. On a pacifist planet, too.

Then, too, Obi-Wan wanted their relationship kept secret. Amidala agreed with this in principle, but it still troubled her. It meant concealing her triumph from some people she would have enjoyed telling, such as Beru. But Obi-Wan refused: "It would cause bad feeling among the other students. Can't you see that?"

No, Amidala couldn't see it. "Are you ashamed of it?" she asked him.

Obi Wan sighed. He did it frequently, and she hated it. It relegated her to an unruly child instead of an equal. "No, of course not. Love among Jedi is not forbidden, you know that, but at the Master level it must be discreet."

"Everyone knew about Hasma," Amidala pointed out.

"Hasma was not my student," Obi-Wan said, in the steely tone mention of Hasma's name always brought out in him. "Nor was she Queen of Naboo. Do you imagine that Godoy wouldn't cause trouble if he had this information?"

Yes, Amidala knew that was true, so she restrained herself. Even so, she some suspected some people already knew. Beru, for example. Beru had an ill-concealed crush on Obi-Wan, one that made her a laughing stock, in Amidala's opinion. She was not even close to being pretty, Amidala thought, and had no poise whatsoever. That was jealousy talking, Amidala knew, and jealousy was beneath her; but still it lurked around every corner.

Amidala's happiness received another rude blow a few months later. Two of her handmaidens, Sabe and Corde, suddenly appeared in her rooms in the Temple. They had not let her know they were coming, which was unusual. She was surprised, but delighted, to see them. The Order had not allowed her to have her handmaidens with her on Corsucrant, which she regretted, but understood.

They both embraced her anxiously.

"Why didn't you tell me you were coming?" Amidala asked.

Sabe looked over her shoulder, and then around the room. She placed a finger to her lips and motioned toward the door. Amidala was baffled, but she managed to contain her curiosity. But once outside, Sabe and Corde still refused to discuss their visit with Amidala, and drew her away from the Temple.

They ended up in a tap café on one of Corsucrant's upper promenades. It was nearly empty at that hour--mid-morning. Sabe ordered cafs for the three of them. Amidala was growing more and more alarmed by the minute.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"Amidala, have you heard anything from Naboo recently?" Corde asked, her eyes on the door of the café.

Amidala shook her head. "I'm scheduled to go home next week for a visit. To celebrate the Great Queen's Ascension and to conduct the ceremonies." The Ascension was the major Nubian holiday. There were feasts and celebrations over a two week period and Amidala had been looking forward to it.

"Amidala," Sabe said, grasping her wrist, "Don't go."

"Not go? Why not?"

"If you go, you won't come back," Sabe said soberly.

Amidala sighed. "You mean Godoy," she said. "I wondered if he might try to assassinate me, but if you think it through, why would he? What good would it do him? He'd lose power anyway."

"Who's the next heir?" Corde asked.

"There isn't one," Amidala said. "Not right now. They would have to appoint a regent of some kind--but it would be one of the Naberries, not my mother. They'd serve until a baby girl is born to one of my male cousins. So you see, killing me wouldn't help Godoy at all."

"He won't kill you," Sabe said gloomily. "At least, not yet."

"Stop this!" Amidala exclaimed. "Tell me what's going on!"

"Your mother and Godoy are planning a marriage for you."

Amidala nodded coolly. "My mother's been talking about that for years."

"They've settled on a groom," Corde said.

"The Alderaanian prince?" Amidala asked without much interest. She knew he was the popular choice of the Nubian people. And she had to get married one day, so she saw no particular reason to object.

"No. Timon Godoy."

"Timon Godoy?" Amidala jumped to her feet. Godoy's eldest son was plain, shy, and almost certainly not interested in women. Amidala did not dislike him, exactly; she did not, however, want to marry him. She was equally positive he did not want marry her.

"Sit down, Amidala!" Sabe said, in an urgent whisper. "You don't want to attract attention!"

Stunned, Amidala sat. She said to her friends in a sarcastic whisper: "And how will Timon provide any heirs to the throne?"

Corde gave her a compassionate glance. "I heard Godoy boasting--out of earshot of your mother, of course--that if his son needed help, he'd be willing to delegate for him."

Amidala felt her stomach drop. At the same time, her mind shifted into high gear. She saw that her notion that Godoy would tamely relinquish power when she came of age had been utterly, stupidly naive. He had no intention of doing so, and would rule through her daughter. She could do little to stop him. Naboo had no army and a pacifist culture.

Her first impulse was to tell Obi-Wan. He would help her, he had to! And yet, after considering it briefly, she rejected it. Her experience with the Order told her that they would not interfere with local politics. And Obi-Wan could be depressingly orthodox, when it suited his purpose.

Think it out, she urged herself. Think it out. You caused this situation yourself because you didn't consider the consequences of offending that scum. She now saw, with paralyzing clarity, that she should have assured him that she would retain Godoy as Prime Minister, and consolidated her position in secret.

Sabe and Corde leaned forward, looking at her with concerned expressions. Amidala had a sudden qualm. Can I trust them? she wondered suddenly. Are they telling me the truth? In her ear, she heard her grandmother's voice, You can't trust anyone, other than yourself.

So she swallowed the furious denunciation of Godoy that sprang to her lips, and forced a smile. She reached and patted Sabe's and Corde's hands. "Thank you for the information. I appreciate your loyalty and believe me, I will reward it as soon as I can." Her formal manner warded off inquiries as to what she was going to do. In fact, she didn't know herself.

In the next few weeks, Amidala was tortured by indecision. What should she do? In the darkest hours of the night, during which she found herself increasingly unable to sleep, she sometimes considered abdication. Yet she knew that it was not really an option. Her grandmother's voice had said frostily in her ear: You are a Naberrie. Behave like one. Yes, she was a Naberrie, and cowardice was not permitted. Yet sometimes she was driven to considering action she knew to be ill-advised strictly for the relief of doing something.

Part of the problem, Amidala concluded, was Nubian culture. The ingrained pacifism that had once saved Naboo was now destroying it. The Nubians knew Godoy was corrupt and power hungry: they simply did not know what to do to stop him. He had cadres of armed mercenaries to enforce his will and there were no other weapons on the planet.

She did cancel her trip home, pleading illness. Her mother and her government pretended to accept the explanation, mainly because Dr. Sydos assured them that it was true. Dr. Sydos had been Amidala's personal physician from her infancy, and he alone of her entourage had been allowed to accompany her to Corsucrant. He lived at the Nubian Embassy and assisted their physician in his spare time, which even Amidala admitted was nearly unlimited. Amidala had been an ailing child, subject to a list of illnesses that had gradually faded away as she grew older. Dr. Sydos assured her that she was currently very healthy, and she had no reason to doubt it.

Of course, it occurred to her that she couldn't really trust Dr. Sydos, either. It troubled her to be so suspicious of everyone; it was not generally in her nature to question people's motives, and now she had to do so at all times. But Dr. Sydos was perfectly placed to be an informant, and as fond of him as she had always been, she had to consider that. She decided to start monitoring his contact with Naboo. And for that, she needed help.

She got it in rather unlikely form--Anakin Skywalker, Obi-Wan's padawan. She knew that he was an expert on droids and technical matters, and so she had tentatively asked him to assist her in setting up a droid surveillance on Dr. Sydos. Of course, he had asked her why. And Amidala, too afraid to tell her own lover the truth, confessed everything to a seventeen year old boy she hardly knew.